.Nw.ODcx

?n he, can such a one forget ?y native humour, sterling wit? No, Garrick, he must surely find, deeply imprinted on his mind, ? such warm tints thy form and face No time or distance can efface.

An ode by an Under Graduate of Lincoln College Oxford, on breaking a China Quart Mug belonging to the Buttens of that Society

Amphora non mercait tam pretiosa mori Whenever the cruel hand of Death Untimely stops a fav'rite's breath, Muses in plaintive numbers tell How lov'd he liv'd -- how mourn'd he fell -- Catullus wail'd his sparrow's fate, And Gray immortaliz'd his lat. Thrice tuneful bonds! could I but chime so clever, My Quart, my honest Quart, should live for ever.

   How weak is all a mortal power
   T'avert the death of de ousted hour!
   Nor can a shape or beauty save
   from the sure conquest of the Grave.